Total pages in book: 41
Estimated words: 39068 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 195(@200wpm)___ 156(@250wpm)___ 130(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 39068 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 195(@200wpm)___ 156(@250wpm)___ 130(@300wpm)
“Jump,” I repeat. “If I see you again, you’re a dead man.”
He topples sloppily over the side, hitting a limb on the lower railing as he goes, likely breaking his arm.
I look back at my wife. She hasn’t moved to climb in the boat. She’s still staring up at me, stricken.
What? What is it?
What does she want from me?
I aim my pistol at her father, who is already climbing in the boat. He yanks the rope free from The Honeymoon’s ladder and starts the engine of the boat as Dahlia climbs in.
And then they’re gone.
My revenge has been undone.
It’s gone flat.
And I don’t even care.
The rage in me is quiet.
In fact, I feel nothing at all.
I’m totally blank. Empty. As dead as the bloody bodies strewn across the slick deck.
It’s over.
My revenge plan, my marriage, my plans for the future. I just conceded everything to a little blonde debutante who sings like a bird.
Dahlia
My father paces back and forth, a blanket from the bed draped around his shoulders. We’re at a hotel in Miami, and he is on the phone with Senator Reese, Jake’s father, talking about the logistics and illegality of getting U.S. Marines down here to take Antonio out.
I go into the bathroom and step into the shower, my wet clothing still on. I stand under the spray for a long time, then I sit down on the tile floor and hold my head in my hands.
What have I done?
What has my father done?
And Antonio?
Men died today over this feud. I should be applauding my father’s new plan, but I can’t. I’m just sick over all of it.
None of this had to happen, starting with my father condemning Antonio to prison for a crime he didn’t commit.
I guess we truly are Romeo and Juliet, and this all ends in tragedy.
The image of Antonio’s body being one of the many corpses we left on that yacht today makes me choke with a sob. The numbness cracks, and I break down–full-on, ugly crying.
How would I feel if Antonio had been killed today? It would have been all my fault. I’m the one who delivered the message to my father about where to find us. I saw the shock of betrayal in Antonio’s expression when he realized what I’d done, and it makes my stomach knot and twist.
Does he hate me now, too?
The thought leaves me broken. Bereft. I didn’t even want to leave the yacht when I jumped over the side. I wanted to run back to Antonio’s bed and crawl back in his arms.
Oh, God. Was it only this morning that we made love? It feels like years ago. Centuries.
Lifetimes have passed since he kissed me.
I scrub my hands over my cheeks, my tears mixed with the shower water.
What now?
Am I going to let them plot Antonio’s murder?
My hand finds my belly. It’s unlikely, but possible that I could be pregnant right now with his child. Am I going to allow my father to kill my husband?
I struggle to my feet and rip my wet robe from my body. I have to stop this madness.
It has to stop here.
Antonio belongs to me now as much as he believes I belong to him.
We’re married.
And that’s when I realize something else. Perhaps the most important thing of all: Antonio cares about me.
He let my father go.
It wasn’t because he’s not a killer–he clearly is. I watched him shoot at least four men today. He hates my father–spent years of his life plotting his revenge against him.
And yet today he let him go.
I can only surmise it’s because I asked.
Because he cares for me. He hasn’t said so. He’s called me beautiful, made me feel beautiful, but he hasn’t said I mean anything to him other than as a conquest.
But if I were just a conquest, he wouldn’t spare my father. Especially not after realizing I’d betrayed him and wanted to escape.
And for the record–I didn’t want to.
I’d do anything if I could back in time and not deliver that message to the restaurant host last night.
To still be with Antonio on the yacht. Or off the yacht, for that matter. Where would he have brought me to live? What would our life have looked like?
All those questions make my heart strain, as if pulled long and twisted.
I turn off the water and towel off, then wrap up in a fluffy hotel robe and step out into the suite to confront my father.
“You have to let Antonio go.”
“It’s too late.” My father shakes his head. “The FBI is on their way to arrest Antonio right now. With the bodycount he left today, he’ll never see the light of day again.”
Chapter Eleven
Antonio
I light a match and flick it into the pool of gasoline and The Honeymoon bursts into furious flames.
I watch for a few moments.